On my Heart, my Soul, my Life
by coffee-ink-fire
Summary: The first hand slapped the door, and Tammy screamed. Doyle placed a kiss on Jenna's head. "We'll be alright." The screams of the infected became a chorus, the slapping of their hands the beat. The door cracked. The infected had found them. Doyle/OC
1. Chapter 1

**28**

Prologue

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except for Jenna. and part of the story line. Don't sue me, I'm poor.

Warnings: Mature content warning (for this chapter), swearing, violence. The works.

* * *

The screams of the infected echoed through the halls, making them sound closer – or further – than they actually were. Andy cowered in Tammy's arms, both of the children trying to hold back tears. Jenna tried her best to look brave for them, but her facade was falling, and from the warm circle of Doyle's arms, she looked just as afraid as they did. Maybe she was as scared as they were. She'd never admit it. She was an adult, and her job was to be brave.

The apartment was a mess, but it had been like that before they'd arrived. Someone had left, and they'd been in a hurry when they did, not bothering that they'd knocked photos off the walls and the fish tank off the bench, leaving the fish to drown in the air. Discarded clothes were strewn around, and the whole place stank of mould. Jenna clutched at her shin. It was already soaked through with blood.

Her whole body ached, mostly from the crash, and her shin was on fire from where Flynn had pulled the bullet out. Her thigh and side didn't hurt as much. They'd only been grazed, but the bullet in her shin had imbedded itself in the bone. Coupled with the extra pressure of walking, and running, on it, the pain was almost unbearable. She'd been shot at too many times to count, yet this was the first time a bullet had found its target. Three of them, in fact. It was ironic, she thought, for her to be shot by her former comrades, when they were supposed to be fighting the infected. Doesn't take long for everything to fall apart.

The screams were getting louder, and Jenna was positive she could hear footsteps. "They're coming," Tammy whispered.

"Shhh," Jenna soothed. "We're okay." She wasn't sure if she was lying or not. She fiddled nervously with her engagement ring as Doyle's arms tightened around her, his breath steady in her ear. They _were_ going to get married when they got back to America, after they had finished up in Britain. Now it was more of a matter of _if _they got back to America.

The mission was supposed to be easy, painstakingly so. All they needed to do was guard a zone called 'District 1', in an all but empty country, and make sure they disposed of any infected who, conveniently, had all starved to death around 6 months beforehand. The pay was generous, and neither Jenna nor Doyle had questioned it as they accepted. Not that they had much of a choice in the matter. Doyle was perhaps one of their best snipers, and Jenna had had to chart all of the flight paths in and out of the country from America, as well as the ones in Britain itself, from military camp to military camp. She knew where every plane and helicopter should be, as well as where all of the military camps were situated.

The first few months went by with no incident. The refugees flooded in, the supplies drifted out of the sky, and life went on. Then the children arrived. Jenna couldn't blame them, but she couldn't not. They'd only wanted to find a picture of their mother for the little boy, Andy. Instead, they found her in the flesh. That's when it all went to hell.

The infected were getting closer. Jenna moved in Doyle's arms, and he placed a kiss on the back of her head. "We'll be alright," he whispered in her ear.

Jenna was finding it increasingly more difficult to breathe. Andy was on the verge of hyperventilating, and Tammy was ghost-white, her eyes wide and full of fear. Poor children, Jenna thought. They'd lost their mother, their father, and now they were facing death themselves. Jenna thought of her brother, at home and their mom. Jason had always opposed her joining the army. The last time they'd spoken she'd kicked him out. He was scared that she'd be sent off and never return. Maybe there was some logic in his worries. And mom. Jenna tried not to think about her mom, who probably hadn't stopped worrying since Jenna had left.

The first hand slapped the door, and Tammy screamed, jumping. Doyle went rigid, as the screams of the infected became a chorus, the slapping of their hands the beat. Jenna grabbed his arm as the door cracked. Flynn got to his feet, pistol held firmly in his hands.

The infected had found them.

* * *

"_It's just for a few months."_

_Jason scowled. "How many months is 'a few'?" he asked._

_Jenna hesitated. She couldn't lie; her brother was a walking lie detector. But she couldn't tell him the truth, either. He'd flip out. "It's not that long. I'll be back before you know it," she promised._

_He didn't believe her. Jenna knew he wouldn't, but she didn't want to have to break his heart._

"_You saw the news" Jason asked. "You know what happened there." He leaned against the counter, crossing his arms in a way that reminded Jenna so much of their late mother. "It's dangerous, with those infected people running around – "_

"_The infected are all dead," Jenna cut in. "They died months ago, Jason. Look, I'll be fine, alright? It's only for a few months while they introduce the first of the refugees, and then I'll be home. You don't need to worry about me. Besides, Doyle's going to be there, and it wouldn't be worth the pain for him to come back to America without me," she joked._

_Jason didn't even smile. "Funnily enough, I'd feel safer if he stayed here."_

"_Don't start."_

"_Oh, I'll start," Jason said._

_Jenna just glared at him. "No," she snapped. "No, you won't start, because if you do, you can get out of my house and you can never come back. Doyle's done nothing to you, and he tries his damn hardest to be nice! Why can't you just be happy for me, Jason?"_

_There were heavy footsteps as Doyle appeared in the kitchen, yawning. He glanced up, saw Jason, and his face instantly fell. "Jason," he acknowledged._

"_Doyle."_

_An awkward silence fell, as the two men sized each other up. Jenna waited for one, or both, of them to blow up. She was used to having to break them up at every meet._

_Jason was the first to speak, dropping his eyes to the floor. "So," he began, "Britain?"_

"_Uh... yeah," Doyle replied, uncertain._

"_You'll make sure you keep an eye on my sister, won't you?"_

_Doyle's face set into an offended scowl. "What, you think I won't?"_

"_No, no, I know you will. You're a good man. Even if you are a prick," Jason replied, his hands held up in surrender._

_Jenna narrowed her eyes. Something was going on. Jason was up to something, and Doyle was highly liable to fall for it. He was intelligent enough, but Jason always pushed his buttons in such a way that he'd fall for anything._

"_Baby, why don't you go and feed Oscar?" Jenna asked. "Please?"_

_Doyle opened his mouth to say something, closed it again, and nodded._

"_Did you need someone to feed him while you're away?" Jason asked. _

"_Yeah, we were going to ask Mrs Bridgett, but she'd gone on holidays," Doyle replied, mid-stride._

"_Well, I can do it. We buy our dog food in bulk anyway, a little extra won't hurt."_

_Jenna didn't realise what Jason was up to until it was too late, and by then it _was _too late. "You sure? They said we'd be gone for at least a year, or so..." Doyle trailed off at the dark look that fell across Jason's face, and the horrified one that was painted on Jenna's._

"_Doyle," Jenna managed between clenched teeth. "Go and feed the dog."_

_Jason's face was reddening, and Doyle took his cue as Jason exploded. "A year? _A year! _You told me a few fucking months!"_

"_Jason, really, that's enough."_

"_What about mom? Huh? Have you told her, yet? No, that'll be left to me, won't it? Yeah, you'll go off into the middle of a fucking battlefield and leave me to break our mother's heart, _again!"

_Jenna bit her bottom lip to stop it quivering. Her eyes welled with tears. She hadn't told their mom. It was cowardice on her part, but she couldn't bring herself to do it, couldn't bring herself to say goodbye, because she was afraid it would mean finality. "Jason..."_

"_I won't tell her. Not this time. _You _can do it. _You _can break her heart as you tell her that you might not even see her again, because you're going off to try and save the fucking Poms instead of fighting for your own country! You and your fucking pretty boy!"_

"_Get out."_

_Jason frowned. "What?"_

"_I said get out!" Jenna screamed. "Get out of my house!" She jumped up from her seat, grabbing her brother's collar and shoving him towards the door. Opening it, she threw him out the front, furious, and he tripped, tumbling down the steps. "Don't you _ever _come back, you hear me?"_

_Too shocked to speak, Jason just lay there, breathing heavily. After a while, he nodded. _

_Satisfied, Jenna slammed the door with a loud bang, and stalked into the kitchen. She fell onto a seat, her head in her hands. A few tears fell onto the table. Her eyes wandered to the phone, as it sat conspicuously on the table, as though it knew what she needed to do, even if she could bring herself to do it._

_There was a clearing of a throat, and Jenna noticed Doyle in the archway. He looked unsure. "I – "_

_Jenna cut him off. "Don't. Just... just don't."_

_Doyle sighed. He dropped the phone on the table. "You should ring her," he said simply._

_A silence fell, as Doyle stared at Jenna, and Jenna stared at the phone. She didn't want to do it. Finally, she picked the phone up, punching in her mother's number. Satisfied, Doyle left the room to give Jenna privacy._

_Her mom answered on the third ring. "Hello?"_

"_Hey, mom."_

"_Jenna?"_

"_Yeah. Look, I... I need to tell you something, mom. I'm going away for a while..."_

* * *

Jenna's lips pressed against Doyle's as she leaned over him, slowly rolling her hips. He moaned quietly, his eyes darkened by lust. She could taste beef jerky and coke on him. Doyle always tasted like them, whether he'd eaten or drunk them or not. He basically lived off the two, anyway.

Placing her hands on his chest, Jenna picked up the pace, waves of pleasure pulsing through her as her lower half tingled. Doyle breathed heavily, his body slick with sweat as his back arched up. He grabbed her hips, letting his hands move as she did. Their eyes met, and a small smile played on her lips as her cheeks went pink.

With a smirk, Doyle ran a hand up her back, tickling her as his fingers brushed against her skin. He tangled them in her hair, bringing her down for another kiss. Her lips brushed against his as her tongue flicked out, working its way into his mouth.

The static that was quietly playing on the radio died as a voice intruded. "Hey, Doyle, where the hell are you, man? It's lonely, man, get your ass in here."

Doyle froze for about half a second as a grin spread across Jenna's face, before he flipped her over, resolving to ignore Flynn, and thrust into her. She gasped into his mouth, hooking her arms under his, and digging her fingernails into his back. The pleasure in her groin grew as she neared her climax, and she arched her back into him. Placing kisses down her neck, Doyle's mouth found her breast, and he sucked at it, his tongue flicking over her.

Moaning, Jenna grabbed at the sheets, curling her fingers into them as Doyle made his way back up to her mouth, kissing her deeply.

"Doyle? Hey, man, you there? C'mon, don't make me come looking for you."

Groaning, Doyle dropped his head into the pillow, resting his weight on Jenna. "You'd best answer him before he does come looking for you," she told him, grinning.

Blindly grabbing for the radio, Doyle pressed the button. "Man, you are worse than my fiancée." Jenna slapped Doyle on the chest. He just grinned at her. "I'm busy man, go annoy someone else."

Flynn took a few seconds to reply. "What could possibly be more important than spending time with me?"

"What do you want, a ring?"

"C'mon, man, get in here. They're serving steak, Doyle. _Steak._ You know how long it's been since I've eaten steak?"

Doyle scoffed, glancing down at Jenna, who just shrugged. "Yeah, alright." He placed the radio on the bedside table, leaning down to place a kiss on Jenna's lips. Reaching a hand between them, he moved it down her body, tickling her sensitive skin. When he reached his destination, he rubbed in small circles with his thumb, omitting a gasp from Jenna.

Before she could climax, though, he withdrew with an evil smirk. "You coming?"

Jenna groaned, rolling her hips against him. "No, I've gotta chart a new flight path," she told him. "There's a plane coming in. Tomorrow, actually."

"You're gunna pick a plane full of refugees over a steak?" Doyle raised an eyebrow.

"You're gunna pick Flynn over me?" Jenna counted.

Doyle paused for a moment, thinking. "I'll see you later, then," he finally said. He hauled himself out of bed to dress. Jenna lay there, watching him with her head in her hand. The pleasure in her groin was ebbing away, unsated, and she internally sighed.

When he was dressed, he turned back to Jenna, who still hadn't moved. He laughed, before bending down to place a kiss on her cheek. "You know you look incredibly sexy in a uniform," Jenna told him.

"You know you look incredibly sexy naked?" Doyle countered. His eyes travelled her body, as if to enforce his point.

"Shame for you, I'm about to get dressed."

"Yeah, that is a shame. Well, you have fun charting flights."

Jenna smiled. "You enjoy your steak."

"Oh, I will."

* * *

R&R?


	2. Chapter 2

**On my Heart, my Soul, my Life**

Chapter One

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except for Jenna. and part of the story line. Don't sue me, I'm poor.

Warnings: Mature content warning, swearing, violence. The works.

Read me: I'm not an army person, so all I know is based on Google and its magnificence. Also, I don't believe there actually IS a position for a, uh, 'flight path charter'. Don't think it actually exists. Whatever, it does now :P

Thank you all for the reviews (I haven't gotten around to replying to you all yet, and I've forgotten who I have and haven't replied to T_T) and I apologise for taking so long to update D:

* * *

Jenna scowled at the numerous maps and letters and already charted paths before her, her earpiece and radio switched off beside them. She hated charting flights, especially over an empty country where there was no-one to cry wolf if it went down, or veered off-course, and especially when she only had an hour to do it. She wanted the flight to go via Paris and straight on to London, but there was a storm brewing across the Channel. It would be safer for the people aboard to fly via Brest, up to Plymouth and... No, no that wouldn't work; if the plane went missing, they'd never find it. There were no military camps down that way; the closest one was in Gloucester.

"How's that flight path coming up, corporal?"

"Like a fire in an Irish winter, sir."

The General leaned over her chair, his brow furrowed. "Fly them over the Channel," he told her.

"There's a storm brewing over the Channel, sir, it might not be worth the risk. I can chart it around," she traced her finger around the map, indicating the alternate route, "but if something happens, and the plane goes down, we won't find it until it's too late. _If _we find it." Sighing, Jenna twisted her engagement ring around her finger.

"What if you go up and around?"

"Well I..." Jenna trailed off. She hadn't considered that direction. General Stone was watching her carefully. "It could work," she reluctantly admitted.

He thumped her on the shoulder enthusiastically, as though it had been her idea in the first place. "Chart it up, get those coordinates out," he told her.

"Yes sir," she replied to his retreating back. She'd never wanted to be stuck charting flight paths. She'd tried to join as a medical officer, and she had; the first time she'd met Doyle was when she'd had to dig a bullet out of his arm, and patch it back up while he sat staring at her. After a while someone had realised she was quite the mathematician and geographer, and she'd been asked to chart a path from America to Britain.

When they'd been sent to Britain, Jenna had assumed she'd be there to patch up wounds and give people their shots. Instead, she'd been tasked with charting all of the flights to and from the military camps, refugee camps and America. It was tedious work, but she took comfort in the knowledge that she wasn't the only one bored; in the few months they'd been there, not one bullet had been shot, and Doyle instead spent his time spying on people in the high-rises.

She typed up the coordinates, along with a pathed map, printed them out and faxed them off to the number Stone had given her. Without waiting for a reply, Jenna seized her headset and headed toward the cafeteria.

It was mostly empty, being around midnight, with a few brave snipers risking a midnight snack, and restless refugees attempting to away with their fears by filling themselves with coffee. Of the same mindset, Jenna poured herself a cup. The steak was long gone, so she settled with chicken and mashed potato. Shoving the earpiece in, she switched the radio on. It was silent, the static deafening.

Jenna considered saying something, but thought better of it, and waited. Shouldn't be too long now.

Perhaps the only reason Jenna even bothered to stay up and switch her radio on was because the rooftop conversations were amusing. More often than not she was the topic of the conversation. If not her, then someone's mom, or sister, or even their grandmother.

She didn't have to wait long. "How ya doing up there, family man?" It was Doyle.

It took a moment for Flynn to answer. "Enjoyin' myself more than you sorry bunch."

"Yeah, but I had a good time with your mom the other night."

"I have good times with your fiancée."

"Your wife know 'bout that?"

"She's there, too, man."

Doyle laughed. He was used to it by now; he and Flynn had been friends since school, joined the army together. If Jenna let on that she knew what the rooftop community talked about, he'd probably mumble some excuse, embarrassed. She felt wicked for it, and frequently had to resist the temptation to make a snarky comment, just to see him blush.

Jenna glanced around at the inhabitants of the cafeteria. Most of them were alone, not because their family or friends were asleep, but because everyone they knew was dead. Their spouse, parents, children and siblings. Even that annoying neighbour from down the street. All fallen victim to a disease that had come out of nowhere, that no one really understood and that had killed all of its hosts within a few months. On top of that, though, most were in their fitness prime. Not old, but not young. There were no children who had been admitted into the country yet, anyway, but the consistent age group was unnerving. Jenna had only seen a handful of people who looked to be older than 50 in her time in district one.

An elderly man walked past Jenna's table. His pronounced limp added perhaps a few years to him, and the crinkles around his eyes didn't help. He smiled a Jenna, superficially, but she smiled back anyway as he continued out of the room. The poor man probably didn't have anyone else. Jenna couldn't imagine what it would be like if she lost her family, her friends. If she lost Doyle.

The thought of it wrenched at her heart, and she pushed the thought out of her mind. There was no danger in the district; all of the infected were dead. All she needed to worry about was the vague possibility of Doyle falling off the top of a building.

* * *

Jenna watched with poorly hidden amusement as Scarlet fired off a string of curses on her way to greet the new arrivals. It wasn't difficult to find the cause of her annoyance; someone had forgotten to inform her that they had now begun to admit children, and now Scarlet had two on her hands.

"I can't believe no one told me."

"Yes, but their father's here, isn't he? You won't have to worry about them after the test," Jenna pointed out.

"That's not the point!"

"It's exactly the point." Jenna was as calm as ever; they weren't her problem. Even though she was technically part of the medical team, she wasn't assigned to it, so she had the pleasure of sitting back and watching as people complained about the tests, and squirmed at the sight of the needles, while Scarlet and her team stuck every single one of them.

Scoffing, Scarlet turned her attention to the band of people approaching. "Are you sure you won't stay? We can always use an extra hand."

Jenna feigned examining the group. "You have fun," she finally said, patting Scarlet on the shoulder as she left.

The process took far too long, in Jenna's opinion. They checked the blood, checked the eyes, asked some questions, handed out some questionnaires, checked the blood again, and then ticked off their checklists before admitting people. All they really needed to do was a careful blood test, to check for infection.

_It's all for the best, _Jenna told herself. And it was, even if they were severe about their security.

The day went by without incident. The arrival of the two children didn't induce a catastrophic event as Scarlet had prophesized, and she'd even gotten to know them. Being friends, Jenna had been obliged to also be introduced. Tammy was the girl, older than her brother by five years, and Andy was a twelve year old boy with an 'interesting iris variation'.

"Do you work with Scarlet?" Andy asked. His gaze fell on Jenna.

"Hm? Oh, yes. Well, technically I do, but I'm here with a different job, otherwise Scarlet would be out of one," Jenna told him.

Andy frowned, thinking. "So... what do you do, then?"

"Well I chart flight paths; make the plane move from A to B. I charted the path for your plane, too."

"Cool!" Andy enthused, his eyes lighting up.

Jenna laughed. "Not really," she assured him, "There's nothing fun about it, really."

Shovelling a forkful of potato into his mouth, Andy said, "do you get a gun?"

"We all get guns."

"Can I hold it?"

"Uh... no."

"Oh... have you ever shot someone?"

"Yes."

"Did they die?"

"No, they didn't die. It's my job to make sure people _don't _die."

Jenna had hoped it would divert Andy's attention from her. It didn't. If anything, the boy was even more excited.

"You're a doctor?"

Jenna smiled at the boy. "That's right."

"Did you ever have to put someone guts back in?"

"Andy!" Tammy squealed, horrified. "You don't ask questions like that!" Jenna and their father laughed.

"It's fine, I don't mind. But no, I haven't had to put someone's stomach back in."

Disheartened, Andy's brow furrowed as he tried to think of another question to ask. He thought it was all really cool. Not the infected, of course, but all of the soldiers. They were literally everywhere. In the cafeteria, patrolling the streets, at the entrance to their apartment block, even in the supermarket. Andy didn't think anyone would try and steal from the supermarket with the soldiers guarding the doors. "Have you ever had to cut someone's leg off?"

"Once."

"Did you ever get someone you know?"

Jenna couldn't help thinking of Doyle, openly staring at her as she stuck him with a needle, and a small smile ghosted her lips. "I didn't know them at the time, but I do now," she told the boy. "But I'm not sure if that counts, does it? They usually try to make sure we don't operate on someone we know."

"No, that doesn't count."

"I think that's enough questions now," Don said. "You finished eating? Let's go." He turned to Scarlet and Jenna. "Thank you for putting up with my _wonderful _children," he told them.

Scarlet smiled. "It was no problem."

"We're here every day, same time," Jenna piped up, winking at Andy.

"I'll be sure to remember that." The three said their goodbyes, leaving Jenna and Scarlet alone.

Jenna spared a sidewards glance at Scarlet. "I think that went well," she observed. "You even made some new friends. You didn't murder Stone, did you?"

"No, but I did tell him what I thought. They shouldn't be admitting children, at least not for another month or two. I mean we haven't even-"

Jenna cut her off. "Scarlet, it's fine. Don't worry about it! They've been living in a refugee camp for the past few months, this is probably a step up. And it's better they send in children who have a parent, as opposed to children who don't have anyone."

Scarlet stared at her plate, playing with her food. Jenna was right, of course. The woman was more often right than wrong, a skill that Scarlet hadn't quite yet perfected. But that didn't make her feel any better. "What about you, anyway?"

Jenna was caught off guard. "Huh?"

"Are you still getting married?"

"Yes, of course," Jenna replied, her hand automatically flying to her engagement ring, twisting it around her finger. "We haven't set a date yet, but hopefully it'll be soon after we get back."

"'We'?"

Jenna nodded. "Doyle's here, too," she explained. "On the rooftops."

"Oh. That must be nice for you."

Jenna laughed. "It's not so bad. Least I know he's not up to anything he shouldn't be," she joked.

Scarlet joined in. "That is true, although I have heard they have some interesting conversations up there."

"Yeah, so have I," Jenna said. She tried to contain her knowing grin. "Anyway, I might turn in for the night. Not like there's much else to do." Jenna started off, hugging herself in preparation for the cold that would hit here the moment she stepped outside. Britain was _freezing_, she'd discovered, especially considering she had spent all of her childhood in Miami, and her adulthood in Long Beach. She wasn't a cold person, at all. Doyle had lived in Washington before moving in with her, so he was slightly more used to colder weather than she was.

"Yeah, you're right," Scarlet mused, twirling her fork absently. "Thanks for keeping me company."

"Anytime."

* * *

R&R?


End file.
